


Broken/Legacy

by BexSilverthorne



Series: Broken/Legacy/Destiny [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 30's & 40's Slang, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Medical Jargon, Mostly Canon Compliant, Other, Pre-Canon, Pre-World War II, depictions of war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BexSilverthorne/pseuds/BexSilverthorne
Summary: Howard was a young, naïve, college student just trying to make ends meet. The opportunity of a lifetime is put before him and he takes a chance that will change his life.Marlene Erskine is a young scientist that is working against the clock to change her fate.Sparks fly and worlds collide.A story of love, loss, betrayal, friendships, and bonds that last for eternity.
Relationships: Howard Stark/Marlene Erskine, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Broken/Legacy/Destiny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145174
Kudos: 2





	1. Promise Me

**May 11th, 1934 - Geneva, Switzerland**

Howard Stark was bored. Despite being halfway across the world and in a conference that held some of the most brilliant minds of the age he was about to fall asleep in his chair. Or he thought he was.

"Are you well, Kitten?" a voice said from his left. 

Howard turned, scanning the long tables in the auditorium. An older gentleman put a hand on the girl’s arm. He’d been watching her for hours, unable to help himself. In certain lectures she was enthralled, alternating between listening to the speaker and taking notes. In this case, she too was fighting to stay awake in the heat and humidity.

"Yes, papa." The girl rubbed at her eyes. "Professor Cragman's droll voice aside, I may fall over dead right here if I can’t get a little fresh air."

"Don't speak of such things," the older man ordered, turning to face the center of the room where Cragman continued to drone on about the benefits of electro-shock therapies.

"I’ll return in a moment," the girl whispered and stood, careful not to obstruct the view of those who were actually listening.

Intrigued. That was Howard's first reaction. His mother always said he was too curious for his own good. Always digging a little deeper than he ought to. It was that innate curiosity that had him moving out of his seat and following her into the hallway. Pausing, he watched her open the door. Lifting her head and closing her eyes she took two steps outside and leaned heavily on the railing. Her chest rose and fell as the heavy mist clung to her hair and dark dress. 

"You're missing the best lecture," he said, moving to lean on the edge of the balcony and lighting a cigarette. "It's electrifying!"

"If Cragman is still speaking, I'd much prefer to be struck by lightning," the girl deadpanned without looking up. “Might do me more good than it does his patients.”

As though she’d been invited, the girl reached into his pocket - pulled out the case - and took a cigarette for her own. He lit it for her without hesitation, taking a longer look at her. She was painfully thin, but who wasn't these days. A sharp and angular face, something that reminded him of an actress or singer. A few years and a few good meals and she might be a looker. Not his type now, but she had the potential to be a real dish. 

The girl turned her blue eyes to him, pinning him in their depths. "Biology, chemistry, or engineering?" 

Howard faltered, like a complete twit, he opened and closed his mouth, no sound escaping.

"Or are you here with a parent?" the girl asked, raising a dark brow. "Lord knows I get dragged to enough of these. No need to be shy, I don’t bite."

"Howard Stark," he replied. "Engineering. Sorry for my manners, but you have the most intriguing accent."

"It's German," the girl said. "And if you act as though you can't understand me, I shall, well, I shall be very cross with you."

Howard's lips quirked into a grin. "Really?"

"I'll kick you in your reproductive places." The girl smiled, showing too many teeth. "Not that you'll be needing them hanging around this group of fools."

"What are  _ you _ here for?" Howard leaned on the railing, holding out his hand. 

"Biochemistry." She straightened and placed her small hand in his. "Marlene Erskine. My family and friends call me Kitty."

"Professor Erskine's daughter?" Howard asked, his heart skipping a beat. "His thesis was one of the deciding factors in my choice of major. The thought of combining both medicine and mechanics is an endlessly lucrative field."

Kitty leaned forward. "So you're all about the money." A statement.

"It's what makes the world turn." Howard shot back, tossing the butt of his cigarette over the railing. "Why biochemistry? Seems like a tough major for a girl your age."

“A  _ girl _ my age?” Kitty tilted her head to the side. “I’ll have you know I graduated over a year ago.  _ And _ I have a vested interest in my research.”

"Is that a fact?" Howard smirked at her, holding out the cigarette case. “What are you researching?”

Kitty pulled the case from his hand, took a cigarette, then placed the case in her pocket, an open challenge in her eyes. “My research is confidential.”

* * *

One thing led to another and Howard found himself in an empty office, shirt unbuttoned and completely disheveled, while Kitty straightened her dress and ran shaking fingers through her hair. 

Howard reached up, gathering her small hands and holding them to his chest. "You scared or something?"

Kitty yanked her hands free. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much. I best be going, my father's likely looking for me."

Howard always had the innate ability to tell when he was gumming the works. Best to just leave her be. 

"Think you could set me up a meeting with him?" Howard blurted. He never had much impulse control. "That'd be swell!"

Kitty's eyes trailed from his partially exposed chest straight up to his eyes. "That's exactly what I long to do, 'Hello father, this is the young man I've been necking for the past three hours. He'd like to speak to you about your advancements in the field of electromagnetic radiation and molecular physics'. I'm sure  _ that'd _ go swimmingly."

Howard chuckled. "So you think he'll talk to me?"

"We're staying at the Les Armures. You can find him in the dining hall promptly at seven for his evening meal."

"And where will you be?" He ran his fingers through her dark hair, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her thin cheekbone. 

"In my room, reading preferably," Kitty answered, turning away from his touch. "It was good to meet you, Howard Stark."

"You'll be here for the whole conference, won't you?" he asked, a dratted tinge of worry leaking into his voice. Time to change the game. "No offence, but you're the only broad around this place that's even close to my age."

"Ah, so we're on the same page." Kitty let out a scoff. "A dalliance born of convenience. I'll be around. And yes,  _ if _ I feel the urge to meet up with you again, I'm sure this isn't the only broom closet in Geneva we can desecrate."

The door opened and closed with a soft click. Still, Howard stood there trying to wrap his mind around the way she'd easily maneuvered him. He hadn't felt at such a loss since Manfredi sent him into one of his high end brothels to collect money from Batty Betty. He'd ran out missing his dignity, his wallet, and his clothes while the hookers laughed from their windows.

Howard scrambled out of the room, feeling the cold sweat creeping up his neck. Small spaces gave him the heebie-jeebies. He was surprised he lasted a few hours in there without going crazy, but then again, he was marvelously distracted. 

* * *

Hours later, Howard stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting with his tie. It seemed like a farce. He was still the same kid who ran numbers for Big Joe and regulated the flow of booze through the lower east side. He was still the same kid who worked his fingers to the bone while attending college at an obscenely young age. 

But here in Geneva, Switzerland, attending one of the most prestigious scientific conferences in history, he felt like an imposter. Sure he could fit in with the swanky rich bastards in a back alley speakeasy, but among the pure genius he was currently surrounded by, he felt ill at odds. Like a child in his father's clothes.

"It's now or never," Howard said to himself.

True to Kitty's word, Howard found Dr. Erskine sitting in a corner booth of the dining hall. The man was reading over a stack of papers, occasionally adjusting his glasses and sipping his tea while his food sat untouched to his left.

"Dr. Erskine," Howard moved to the side of the table. "I was about to order dinner and noticed you were alone. Do you mind?"

Dr. Erskine pushed his glasses back up and turned to Howard. "Ah, yes, Mr. Stark! I was hoping to speak to you in the coming days."

"You were?" Howard felt a knot growing in his throat.  _ Did Kitty tell him? Was he about to be murdered with cutlery?  _

"Yes!" Dr. Erskine moved the stack of papers and his dinner plate out of the way. "Your thesis on renewable energy is highly intriguing. I must admit that I was both shocked and impressed."

Howard let out a sigh. That wasn't so bad. In fact, he and Dr. Erskine sat there enjoying their drinks and conversation so long that their waitress finally gave up and sent the hotel manager over to boot them from the dining hall.

Dr. Erskine pulled a pocket watch from his coat and squinted at the face. "Oh my, I must be getting back. My Marlene is likely worried about me being gone for so long."

Howard's smile widened. "Your wife?"

Dr. Erskine's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "My daughter. Do sit with us at the lecture tomorrow. I hear Dr. Zola's presentation is something we must look forward to."

"I'd be honored, sir," Howard replied with all honesty, shaking the man's hand. 

* * *

Dr. Zola's lecture turned out to be another tedious exposition that Howard would have likely slept through had Kitty not kept him awake by jabbing him in the side each time he started to drift off. She even had the gall to look smug about it, despite the fact that she too looked ready to fall asleep.

The conference adjourned for a break and Howard followed Dr. Erskine and Kitty into the foyer, glad to be free of the stifling room. Howard pulled a cigarette from his pocket. Dr. Erskine wiped his brow.

Kitty's mouth opened in a wide yawn. “I’m exhausted, Papa.”

Dr. Erskine moved closer to her side, putting a hand on her arm. "Do you wish me to walk you back to the hotel?"

"You still have five more hours of this." Kitty patted his hand. "I can walk there by myself."

"It isn't safe," Dr. Erskine argued. "I can miss a lecture or two."

Howard made a show of checking his watch. "I have an appointment with the manager of my hostel in an hour. I can walk Kitty back, sir."

Dr. Erskine let out a sigh of relief. "You're a good man, Howard. Thank you."

Howard beamed, as Kitty coughed into her hand. "We better get going before the rain starts up again."

"I'll see you at dinner, Kitten." Dr. Erskine kissed his daughter's cheek and went back inside, sparing a look over his shoulder.

"Shall we?" Howard offered his arm to Kitty.

She linked her arm through his with a smirk. "Smooth, Stark. Real smooth."

“Exhausted or bored to tears?” Howard returned. “You weren’t kept up last night, were you?”

Kitty’s eyes narrowed. “My nighttime activities are no concern of yours.”

“Ah, but I want to know.” Howard laughed. “Were you dreaming of me?”

“You died in a plethora of painful ways,” Kitty said in a pleasant tone. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

“You don’t like me much, do ya?” He tugged her closer. “In fact, I’d say you hated me.”

“You’re not worth the effort of my hate.” Kitty shot back.

“But you  _ did _ dream about me.”

Kitty pulled her arm free with a huff, trying to outpace him. Luckily for him, she was slightly shorter and was winded easily.

The heavy mist turned into a light drizzle as they walked down the street. Like him, Kitty was silent, focusing instead on their surroundings. Even with the dreary weather the city was alive and beautiful. He took time to admire each building, its architecture, and how sound it stood even after hundreds of years. Timeless. One day he would build a skyscraper in New York City. Smack dab in the middle, where it could overshadow all of the lesser buildings. People would travel miles just to see it. They would see his name on a sign and marvel at what he'd accomplished. 

_ One day. _

The rain came down heavier, threatening to drench them. Kitty laughed, her dark hair sticking to her pale forehead as she pulled him into a nearby cafe. It was a fancy place, delicate china lined the walls, while servers stood by, dressed to the nines, ready to wait on them. 

Kitty reached into her coat pocket and then held her hand out to the maître d', smiling when he accepted her hand. "A table for two, please."

The man scrutinized them for a moment, his gaze lingering on Howard's patched coat. Kitty squeezed his hand and the man sighed, grabbing two menus and guiding them to a corner booth far from the windows or other patrons.

Before the server could leave, Kitty rattled off something in German, probably ordering the meal. 

"I feel slighted," Howard grumbled, glaring at the man's retreating back.

Kitty reached across the table and ran the pads of her fingers across his cheek. "You  _ are _ due for a shave."

Howard felt his chest tighten, an odd sensation running through him as Kitty pulled away. He wrapped his fingers around her hand, enthralled by the way she fit him so well.

"You're freezing," he said, rubbing her icy fingers. 

"I'm cold blooded," Kitty murmured, pulling free of his grip when the food was brought out. 

Howard barked out a laugh. "There's warmth in there somewhere! In fact, I've made it my goal to find it."

"That will take far longer than three days." Kitty arched a single brow. “I might succeed in killing you by then.”

“Is this a ploy?” Howard pushed the plate away in mock horror. “Are you trying to poison me?”

Kitty cut into the steak without looking away from him. “Are you willing to tempt Fate?”

The meal was spectacular. For years he'd been surviving on boiled everything. There wasn't enough food to go around in their household, let alone to actually fill him up. And when there was, it was usually bland potatoes or beets. So to be able to enjoy a steak, an honest to goodness chunk of meat, was entirely blissful. There was a nagging voice in his head that told him that he'd be using his entire savings to pay for the delight, but it was worth it. If he couldn't afford his ticket home, then he'd ask the head chef for a job; anything to keep his belly full. 

“What do they call this again?” Howard asked, pointing to the pot of melted cheese.

“Fondue.” Marlene snickered when he began stealing small pieces of meat from her plate. "You go ahead and finish it, Howard."

Howard frowned, setting his fork down. "You've barely eaten anything."

"I had a large breakfast," Kitty shrugged, moving to stand. "I'm going to the powder room, do try not to empty the kitchen before I return."

Howard shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Still, he watched her walk away, admiring her in a way that woke a hunger in him for something more than food. He finished his meal and leaned back against the firm leather seat, taking another look at his watch. He wasn't lying about the appointment. Damn it all. He was late. He'd be lucky if his paltry suitcase wasn't already on the curb. With their impromptu meal putting a stick in his plans and his budget, he was hoping the man didn't toss him out on his ear.

"You're staring a hole into the wall." Kitty walked up to the table. "Come with me."

Howard stood and followed. "What is it?" 

"You have to see this painting!" Kitty urged. "It's gorgeous! I don't know how we missed it when we walked in."

The maître d' cut his eyes at them as they walked past, but Kitty's hand on his arm was reason enough not to go back and sock him in the jaw. 

"Where is it?" Howard scanned the walls, seeing nothing other than the pouring rain through the tall windows. 

Kitty moved to the door, her grip on his arm tightening. "Here!"

One second they were in the warm and dry restaurant, the next Kitty had pulled him into the torrential downpour, all but dragging him as she laughed. 

"What are you doing?" Howard yelled over the roaring thunder. "I didn't pay the tab!"

"Then you better run!" Kitty laughed. 

"You're going to be the death of me," Howard whispered, moving to catch up.

Howard was right, his suitcase was left at the front desk. The manager wouldn't see reason. He took one look at Kitty and went purple in the face, muttering something unkind in German.

Kitty clenched her fists and glared at the man, picking Howard's suitcase up. "You have a better room waiting at the Les Armures, darling. No need to stay in this - pigsty."

"I do?" Howard questioned. 

Kitty leaned up to whisper in his ear. "I'm sure you'll find a way to pay me back." 

* * *

Two hours later Howard was covered in sweat, feeling like he could sleep for a year. His heart raced beneath his ribs, running rampant from exertion. Kitty yawned once again, stretching her arms above her head.

"I can't stay here," Howard muttered. "Your father’s going to kill me. Given some of his research, I'm sure he knows a few interesting ways to do so."

Kitty stood slowly, wrapping the silk dressing gown around herself. "He won't come in here. In fact, he'll likely forget our dinner arrangement."

"Where are you going?" Howard asked, moving to grab his shirt from where it'd been tossed to the floor.

Kitty looked over her shoulder, pinning him with a coquettish smile. "The bath."

The water was so hot it stung, but Kitty didn't seem to mind, so Howard kept quiet. Kitty threatened bodily harm when he'd stood there for twenty minutes thinking up improvements that could be made to the newfangled shower. He'd taken a piss with more water pressure than the contraption put out. In fact, he was sure that with a little tinkering, he could get it to strip off a layer of skin or two.

"You've got that look again," Kitty tossed a soapy cloth at his face. "If you're going to waste my warm water, you might as well get clean."

Howard grabbed the cloth and began scrubbing down, only instead of focusing on the shower he stared at the broad across from him. Kitty was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, letting the water trickle down her body. That wasn't what caught his eye. Large dark bruises littered her back and hips. He could see the outline of where his fingers had dug into her skin. But that'd been yesterday, he wasn't rough with her. 

It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. And Dr. Erskine didn’t seem the type for abuse, then again, Howard knew looks could be deceiving. Everyone loved Walter Stark, they thought the world of him, that didn’t spare his mother or himself from his wrath.

"God, Kitty!" Howard moved closer. "Why didn't you say something? I hurt you!"

Kitty opened her eyes and followed his gaze. "You didn't. I'm just anemic. Even the most minor injuries leave horrid bruises. It looks ghastly, but it’s no need to fret."

Howard's guilt subsided, but the worry was still there. "You should have finished your meal. You need iron, right? You left your steak untouched."

"Don't you dare start coddling me, Stark!" Kitty hissed, grabbing a towel from the rack and turning off the water. "My family does that enough."

"Well excuse me for caring!" Howard put his hands up, thoroughly exasperated.

"You shouldn't care!" Kitty retorted. 

Kitty walked out, leaving him in the rapidly cooling bathroom with his thoughts. It was all too much. Far too soon. He'd been in Geneva for all of two days and he was already shacking up with a bird. Not only that, but she was the daughter of a man he deeply admired. To make matters worse, he might even be wanted by the police force in the city due to his impromptu dinner with said hellion. 

Kitty was going to be the death of him.

A knock sounded at the door and Howard rushed to wrap himself in a towel, trying to be as quiet as possible. He froze when he heard Dr. Erskine's voice on the other side. Kitty replied in her native tongue, spurring a short conversation that Howard couldn't follow or understand in the slightest. He waited on bated breath as the two spoke, then finally the door closed with a click.

Kitty poked her head into the bathroom. "Are you staying here all night?"

"Is your father waiting to kill me?" Howard tried to peek around the corner. 

"He's gone back to his room," Kitty rolled her eyes and turned away. "Hurry now, the bed's getting cold and the fondue will be here any moment."

Howard’s stomach rumbled, and he cautiously poked his head into the room. "Does he know I'm here?"

Kitty stopped and turned that cold gaze on him. "You really are a worrywart. Honestly, my father doesn't often see beyond his own microscope. Let alone what is right in front of him. But if this fling is too much for you to handle, you're free to leave."

He couldn't really. He had ten dollars in his pocket, barely enough to get back to New York with a few meals along the way. But that wasn't what troubled him. Not right then.

"A fling?" Howard's heart sank as the word left his lips.

"You don't expect us to keep contact, do you?" Kitty tilted her head in true curiosity.

"Well, I hoped-"

"Hope is for children and fools," Kitty interrupted, moving close enough to touch. "The reality of our situation is that we will likely never see or speak to each other again. Can you not try to just enjoy the moment?"

Something inside him broke. "That I can do."

* * *

Things changed during their last two days together. He watched her, waiting for a sign that she'd changed her mind. Waiting for her to feel something more than casual interest. On a few occasions he caught her staring at him, but the moment their eyes met she would look away, plastering on that infuriating mask of indifference. Two could play that game. Howard ignored her advances, opting to stay and listen to the lectures at the conference. He enjoyed watching her squirm in irritation as she was forced to sit and listen to the old men ramble on about their scientific findings. Sure, he would have rather been back in the hotel room, holding her close, but this was almost as satisfying. 

The night before he was set to depart Switzerland found him sitting across from Dr. Erskine once again. The meal was as opulent as expected, but it tasted like ash in Howard's mouth. He didn't want to leave. Going back home would be returning to both college and his side job of hustling for Big Joe. 

"This is where I could use your expertise, Howard," Abraham said, pushing a stack of paper across the table. "I need a stable source of energy with enough output to activate the serum."

Howard looked over the formula and calculations. "Have you tried microwave radiation?"

Abraham let out a laugh. "I have. The serum boiled and the blood sample coagulated. Not a pleasant experience I'd put upon future test subjects."

"I don't have a lab of my own yet," Howard admitted. "Though I'm sure given time and the right equipment I could come up with something. If you don't mind me continuing when I return to New York?"

Abraham scrutinized him. "That would be acceptable and appreciated. You will be compensated for your time and equipment, should you find a suitable power source. The formula for the serum however, stays with me. It is much too dangerous to be out in the world."

"I can work around that, but I'd prefer to keep in contact considering any findings and questions I may have," Howard replied.

Abraham adjusted his glasses and scribbled onto a loose sheet of paper then slid it across the table. "The private telecommunication line at my university. Contact me as soon as you find anything relevant."

Howard could sense the older man's urgency. "What's this serum supposed to do?"

Abraham pulled the stack of papers back and placed them in his briefcase. "It's my hope that this will cure even the most aggressive forms of cancer."

The admission struck him silent. If it worked, it wouldn't just be groundbreaking, it'd be revolutionary. This was it! This was his ticket to get his name up in lights. The Stark name wouldn't be plastered across the front page for getting busted running hooch for Manfredi, it'd be there announcing a Nobel Prize. The possibilities and opportunities would be endless. He wouldn't just be wealthy enough to get by, this would make him filthy rich. He'd be a hero. And if he was being honest, he loved the thought of helping people.

He stared at the ceiling all through that night, his mind whirling with ideas and theories. He needed to get back to the university library in New York where he could dig deeper into the research. There was so much more he needed to learn if he was going to pull this off.

"You're still awake," Kitty whispered, turning to burrow further into his arms.

"Can't sleep," Howard muttered, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Your father tasked me with creating a device to assist him in his latest project."

Kitty rubbed her temples. "Of course he would pull you into this."

Howard leaned up on his elbows. "You don't think it will work?"

"I have complete faith in my father's genius," Kitty replied. "I know in time he will get it right, but for now he’s rushing the process. He isn't thinking it through. And it goes unsaid that what he's working on isn't ethically right."

"What do you mean?" Howard sat up, fully incensed. "It'll save lives!"

"He's trying to cheat death!" Kitty snapped. "People live and they die. It's the natural process."

"He's trying to cure a disease, Kitty!" Howard argued. "Given the possible applications it'd be unethical for him _ not _ to pursue this."

"You sound just like him," Kitty whispered as she stood and moved to the record player in the corner. "Of all people, why did he have to ask you?"

Howard didn't understand her irritation. Why couldn't she see that this could spearhead the future of pharmaceutical and medical science?

"Why don't you want me working with your father?" Howard questioned, moving to stand behind her. "Is it because you thought you'd be rid of me after tomorrow?"

Kitty snorted softly, playing with the gold chain around her neck.

Howard took a step back. "That's it, isn't it? Well, doll, you won't have to worry about me stepping in your way. In fact--"

Kitty took him off guard, launching herself into his arms, digging her fingers into his hair and melding her mouth to his. His shock had him holding still for a moment, until his mind caught up. 

"You can't just chop and change, Kitty. You either like me or you hate me."

"I'm perfectly free to do both, Stark." She grabbed him by the waist and pulled him so close he could feel her pressed up against him everywhere.

"Do I get the same freedom?"

Kitty looked up at him through her thick lashes. "You can like me now and hate me when I'm gone."

Howard smiled crookedly. "If you think this is the last time you'll be seeing me, you've got another thing coming."

Kitty pulled him closer, melding her lips to his. It was painfully slow, the way she moved against his body, far sweeter than the frantic energy of the past few days. He savored every moment, knowing it'd be at least a year or two before he would have the money to visit. It was too much to think that this would all end by tomorrow. He couldn't let it.

Just because Kitty refused to talk about the future didn't mean Howard wasn't thinking about it. Sure it was a long way off and anything could happen in a few years, but he couldn't help but imagine having her on his arm as he started up his company. She wasn't just another pretty face, she was brilliant in her own right and would be a trusted partner and confidante. Unlike most of the girls back home, Kitty could hold her own when it came to science. She didn’t sit there with a blank stare on her face when he would speak about his goals, dreams, and theories. No, Kitty would give him advice on how to improve his inventions.

"Don't forget me.” Kitty pulled back just enough to lean her forehead against his. “Promise you won't forget?"

Howard's mouth opened, then closed. "I doubt I could ever forget you. You're the most stubborn and infuriating dame I've ever met."

Kitty brushed her lips against his cheek. "Good."

"I'll be back in a year or two," Howard assured her. "Sooner if I can get a working prototype together. Well, that's if you want to continue whatever this is."

"A year or two," Kitty repeated softly. "Howard Stark, if I ever see you again, I'll marry you on the spot."

"Will you now?" Howard pulled her closer. "Do I get a say in this wedding?"

"No." Kitty ran her fingers across his back.

Whiplash. That was the perfect way to describe his feelings for Kitty. There was something else there too. Something that had him memorizing her face, each sharp angle. Tracing the dark circles under her eyes with the pads of his thumb, he leaned in for another kiss. He didn't want to admit what it could be. It was too serious a word to apply to a relationship spanning four days. It was something, though.

The soft music played in the background while he held her close. It wasn't dancing - he was never much of a dancer. They simply moved slowly from side to side, just living in the moment. His mind ran rampant with images of the future. 

* * *

  
  



	2. 1935 - A Bitter Song

**September 1st, 1935 - Augsburg, Germany**

"The latest serum," Kitty said, leaning towards the microscope. "You think it will react well with the electromagnetic solution Howard developed?"

"See for yourself." Abraham wiped his hands on his trousers and moved to sit beside her.

Kitty placed a single drop of the blue serum on the glass slide, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly dropped it.

"It might be for the best that I apply the activant," Abraham whispered.

"I understand." Kitty placed her clasped hands on her lap. "It's too volatile for my clumsiness."

Abraham said nothing, though the pained look on his face spoke volumes on its own. She wished he was more pessimistic. There was no greater pain that she faced than to see her mother and father speak of his latest findings with such high expectations. The numbers were there for her to see. The formula was close to being ready for testing, but it could take years to get it working in conjunction with the device Howard designed.

"It will work." He placed a hand over hers.

"I trust you, Papa." Kitty smiled. "Now please hurry."

Kitty watched with bated breath as he placed a tiny drop of the golden liquid on top of the blue. She leaned forward to stare into the microscope. It was magnificent to watch, the way the blue and gold melded together on the molecular level, finally combining in an ethereal teal color that reminded her of the hot springs in the Swiss Alps.

The molecules stayed that way for the briefest time before they moved apart once again. She felt the wave of heat on her cheek. Her heart lurched into her throat and she stood, bodily shoving her father out of the way as the glass slide exploded. The breath was knocked from her lungs, her side colliding with the hard floor. Too weak to move, let alone speak, all she could do was lie there limp as a ragdoll while her father jumped to his feet to douse the flames.

"Marlene!" Her mother's voice called out, the thuds of her footsteps approaching. "My word, Abraham! What happened?"

"The window of time needed to apply the electromagnetic waves is shorter than I initially calculated," Abraham replied breathlessly, smelling of ozone and smoke as he knelt at her other side. "I'm so sorry, Kitten."

Kitty choked in a mouthful of air, then another, coughing as her mother helped her to sit. "You've done it! It will work, Papa. It will work!"

Despite the charred mess of her room, the aching in her bones, and the small cuts and bruises, Kitty had never felt better. It was going to work. Maybe not in her lifetime, but so many others would be spared the pain and misery she'd endured for nearly half a decade.

Greta pulled Kitty against her side and looked up at father's eyes, brimming from either tears or the heavy smoke. "Is this true, darling?"

"If we can apply the electromagnetic waves shortly before administering both serums it will have the highest chance of acclimating them to create the desired reaction!" Abraham exclaimed. "I must contact Howard immediately! Or should I have him flown in? Surely he'd want to be here to see for himself."

Kitty let her eyes fall closed. As much as she wanted to see Howard again, she didn't want him to see her like this. She'd sworn her father to secrecy long ago. Howard still had no idea that she was the reason behind her father's obsession with the cure. In the long conversations they shared over the past year, he never once asked about his motivations and she'd felt no need to admit to it. In fact, she learned more about Howard in the time they spoke over the phone each week than the four days they physically spent together. He was far too sentimental and emotional to react well to the news.

"It would take him years to get here," Kitty let out a pained laugh. "He'd have to take apart the aeroplane to see its inner workings and then find a way to modify it."

"Mother?" Klaus' voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs. "What was that?"

"Get up here, dear," Greta called back.

At seventeen - just two years younger than Kitty - her brother towered over the rest of them, having to duck his head and stoop his shoulders when walking into her attic room.

He took one look at the mess and shook his head. "Your experiment or father's, Marly?"

"Both!" Abraham said with a smile. "Help your sister to the couch, son. I'll get this cleaned up and then contact Howard."

"Oh, give me that," Greta ordered, grabbing the broom and dustpan from Abraham's hands. "Go on. The sooner you can return to us, the sooner we can eat dinner."

Abraham kissed Greta's cheek and all but ran down the stairs, muttering about variations in practical applications. Klaus wrapped a large arm around Kitty, gently helping her down the stairs while Greta started cleaning up the wrecked room.

"Father will be gone all night, won't he?" Klaus asked, sitting on the couch next to her.

"At best," Kitty replied tiredly, leaning back against the cushions, guilt roiling in her stomach.

It was her fault their father spent hours to days locked in his lab. Her fault that her brother always stayed stoically on the sidelines, waiting to be noticed by their parents. It was her fault they couldn't live a normal, peaceful life. Kitty fiddled with the locket on her neck, the weight settling uncomfortably at her collarbone.

"Sleep, Marly." Klaus patted her hand. "I'll get the first aid kit and patch you up."

"I love you, little brother," Kitty told him, closing her eyes.

Her mother's shrill whisper woke Kitty sometime later.

"Give him what he wants, Abraham!"

"You know I cannot do that, my love," Abraham replied. "It would undermine everything I've ever worked for."

"He's the Fuhrer!" Greta hissed. "My word, Abraham, what do we do?"

"You and Klaus should go to your father's. I will only stay until Mr. Stark arrives and then we'll meet you there."

"I will not leave you and Marlene!" Greta argued. "We stay together."

"Two weeks," Abraham said, "whether it is successful or not we will leave in two weeks. Together."

* * *

The following days were a chaotic tailspin. Abraham spent most of his time at the lab. He hadn't been able to contact Howard and instead had one of his assistants help him create the device based on Howard's earlier prototype. When he did return late into the night he would sit with Kitty for an hour or two, explaining the process. She struggled to stay focused. Each day the pain became worse. Food no longer held any appeal and when it did, she was unable to keep it down.

Illness became the focal point for her family's attention. They never left her alone, not even when she internally begged for peace and quiet. To top it all off, Abraham had become increasingly paranoid, always double checking the doors and windows before he left for work, and at night he stayed in the chair next to the couch while she fitfully slept.

"Tell me, father," Kitty said late one evening. "Why are you so anxious?"

Abraham leaned forward. "There is a man who is interested in my research in molecular physics. He works for the Fuhrer. I fear that he has someone following me. Questions have been asked. Alarming questions."

"They know!" Kitty breathed, sitting up straighter, the implications making her heart beat erratically. "Destroy it, Papa! You cannot let it go into the wrong hands! Mother was right. We should have left when we had the chance."

"To destroy it would be to destroy our hope, child. I will deal with Herr Schmidt after you are well and whole again. Not a moment sooner," Abraham promised. "So sleep and do not worry."

"How can I sleep when I only have time to worry?" Kitty leaned back. "Please, Papa. Don't do this! Don't continue with this line of research. For Klaus, for Mother."

"This is for them!" Abraham argued, standing and running a hand through what remained of his hair. "This is for you, my child! For your mother, your brother and so many others to come. I know it! Howard knows it, you know it as well! Now is not the time to give up hope, not when we're so close!"

Kitty's ears rang at his loud tone. Her father was not a naive man, he knew the reason Schmidt wanted the formula. A serum that changed the molecular density of the subject. When finished, it could be used in far more sinister ways than cheating a fatal disease. Guilt settled fast and heavy on Kitty's shoulders. It _was_ all her fault. How could she argue with him about it now? It was her formula, one her father had taken — corrected, modified, and perfected — until it was something that could only bring about more suffering in the wrong hands.

All too soon Kitty came to the realization that she didn't have a week. Each day she woke up surprised to still be among the living. Her strength had run out entirely, taken little by little as the cancer ate its way through her marrow. Her world was nothing but pain. The slightest touch, one too many blankets, the cold cloth on her forehead, it was all torture. All sense of time had gone, leaving her with a few scant moments of coherent thought on the best days and blissfully unaware and deep in the clutches of morphine on the worst. It was no way to live.

"Still no word from Howard?" Kitty asked, trying to distract herself.

"I spoke with his professor this afternoon," Abraham answered with a knowing look. "He is currently at a conference in Chicago and won't return until tomorrow. The cheque I mailed should have arrived by now, so he will have the funds and the ticket to make it here."

Kitty let out a breath. He was alright. That's all she cared about.

"It's a crude replication of Howard's design," Abraham said, setting up the device next to her makeshift bed on the sofa. "He will likely berate me for its inconsistencies when he arrives."

Kitty watched with tired eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep. It took all she had to shove the lethargy away and act as though all was well. For her family, for Howard, she had to keep up the pretense of hope.

"He should be here by week's end," he informed her, continuing to run the wires to the rotary device under the couch. "He mentioned something about planning a wedding."

Kitty let out a weak laugh. Howard still hadn't let her out of her promise, and swore that he'd hold her to it in each letter he sent. She had a feeling that her parents knew more about her relationship than they let on, often wondering why she volunteered to help at the lab only to spend hours on the phone. Kitty was all too willing to let that sleeping dog lie. No sense in ruining both her and Howard's reputations, as well her father's goodwill to him.

"He hasn't mentioned a fiance," Kitty replied wearily.

"Hmm," Abraham mumbled.

On Wednesday the situation turned dire. The men following Abraham had attacked his assistant in an alley, leaving him beaten and bloody. The poor young man refused to return to the lab, and worse yet, refused to tell Abraham what information he'd given the Schutzstaffel. To top it all off Kitty's health was deteriorating by the hour.

"I'm tired," Kitty admitted, late that evening.

He knelt down beside her chair and carefully lifted her into his arms. The agony blossomed across her back and traveled down her limbs, leaving her gasping for breath and fighting the urge to scream.

"An hour, Kitten." Abraham set her on the bed and brushed the lank hair from her brow while adjusting the morphine drip. "One hour to ready the proper dosage. Can you give me that?"

"I love you, Papa," Kitty whispered, errant tears streaming into her hair. "Just stay here with me. Please."

"Be strong, little one." Abraham kissed her forehead. "I will have Mother and Klaus sit with you until I return."

Kitty remembered closing her eyes, hearing her mother sobbing beside her, feeling Klaus' large hand wrapped around hers. She wanted to wake up, to tell her family how much they meant to her, how much she loved them and how sorry she was for all she'd put them through.

They deserved better.

It was a relief to know that soon they'd be able to move on and forward with their lives without her there to hinder them. They would escape from Germany and the Fuhrer's dictatorship. Abraham would win hundreds more awards for his work. Klaus would become a world renowned surgeon like he'd dreamt of. Greta might actually learn how to drive an automobile like she always talked about. And Howard. He would go on to be the most famous engineer in the world. He would marry a sweet nonsensical woman and have a houseful of children that had his passion for life and that infuriating smug smile.

That crooked grin haunted her as she tried to claw her way out of the depths of her pain. She had to try just a little longer. But the more she fought the further she sank into the darkness.

* * *

"Is it ready, Abraham?" Greta asked as he all but ran into the sitting room.

"It is." He knelt at his daughter's side, checking her pulse. "We're out of time, Greta, they're here."

"She looks worse, Papa," Klause whispered.

"All will be well soon," Abraham assured him. "I need you to help your mother stall the officers until I can administer the serum."

Abraham struggled to keep his voice and hands calm as he felt the weak thrum beneath his fingertips. They were losing her. It was much too soon. She should have had another month or two at least. Greta helped him roll Marlene onto her side, pulling up the back of her nightshirt to reveal her bruised back, her spine threatening to push through the delicate skin. No living being should suffer like this, he thought.

The headlights shone through the lace curtains, leaving the designs swimming across Marlene's pale skin until they disappeared. One. Two. Four. Six. The heavy metal thuds of the doors shutting echoed through the house, beating almost as loud as the rush of blood in his ears. He fumbled with the case in his hands, carefully extracting the injection gun. He'd rechecked his calculations three times before coming to the proper dosage. He hoped he was right. He had to be. In a fit of paranoia and stupidity he destroyed not only all of his notes and research, but the remaining portions of both serums had joined the stack of papers in the university's incinerator.

This was it. One chance. If he failed- No, he couldn't contemplate that outcome. Not now.

The device beneath the couch clicked into life, a low hum that was barely noticeable over the sounds of the automobile engines outside of his home. Please work, he thought. God, don't let me lose her. Greta squeezed Marlene's shoulder— and his — before saying a silent prayer of her own, then rushed from the room with a hand stifling her sobs.

The thunderous knock on the door spurred him into action. He pressed the needle into the pale skin on her back, grimacing as he felt it sink between the vertebrae of her spine. Abraham connected the first tube to the needle and pressed the plunger in. Marlene didn't react and his only hope was that she wasn't suffering through the process. With the blue liquid emptied, he unscrewed the vial and twisted the gold serum onto the syringe, quickly injecting it. There was no time for gentleness. With both serums administered, Abraham pulled Marlene's shirt back down and rolled her onto her back, then hid the empty vials and needle under her pillow.

"What do you want from us?" Greta's voice sounded from across the hall.

"We are here for Dr. Erskine," Schmidt's voice rang out.

Abraham kissed Marlene's brow and gave her hand a firm squeeze before rushing into the front room. Greta was standing between the three officers and Klaus. The men had their guns pointed at his wife while Klaus was on the floor, a hand to his bloody lip.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded. "Who do you think you are to invade my home and attack my family?"

"Twice we've met before," Schmidt began. "Twice I have offered you the opportunity to use your knowledge to help your country."

"My answer is still the same," Abraham replied. "My theories are untested. Even if they worked, I would never hand my research over to you."

"Not willingly," Schmidt intoned. "Though you forget that there are a number of reasons for you to cooperate."

"And if I refuse?" Abraham asked.

Schmidt barely spared him a glance, turning to three of the officers. "Find his research. Leave nothing behind."

"You cannot do this!" He protested.

Schmidt tugged at the edges of his black gloves. "You will cooperate and serve your country. For Germany and for the Fuhrer."

Abraham stood straighter. "I will not work for him. Nor you. You are wasting your time, Schmidt."

"We shall see about that," Schmidt smiled. "Where is your daughter, Herr Erskine? I was told she is the one to thank for your dabbling in the extraordinary."

"She's very sick," Abraham warned him. "Very contagious. She can't be moved."

"She _is_ very sick." Schmidt waved a hand to his men who then split up to search the house. "But she is not contagious."

Abraham listened as the men tore apart his home, upending dressers, tearing the mattresses, the books, the cabinetry. Nothing was left untouched. Each time they traveled near the sitting room his heart jumped into his throat. Greta kept a hand on Klaus' arm, doing her best to hold him back. Abraham clenched his fist, the urge to protect his family almost outweighing the senselessness of going into a fight outnumbered and outgunned.

"The girl?" Schmidt asked as the last two men returned to the room.

"Dead, sir," the first one answered.

"No!" Abraham shook his head. "She is not. She cannot be."

"Arnstad!" Schmidt shouted, fists clenched at his sides. "Check the girl again. If she's alive, bring her, if she's dead, shoot her twice to be sure."

"Abraham!" Greta cried out, reaching for him.

He tried to move closer, but was stopped by the two large officers.

"Jawohl Obergruppenführer!" The young man — Arnstad - swallowed hard, then saluted and marched back into the sitting room.

"Please, have mercy!" Greta begged. "She is just a child, she has done nothing wrong!"

Abraham stood there as the footsteps drifted away. Greta's eyes met his once again, mirroring his own fear. Klaus looked at them in betrayal. Neither could do anything with the guns pointed at their heads.

The first shot rang out, and his whole body flinched. The second sounded off and he couldn't breathe. He swayed, his knees connecting hard with the wooden floors. "Dear god, no!"

"My baby!" Greta sobbed.

"Stop this!" Klaus screamed, breaking free of the officer's hold and rushing Schmidt.

Schmidt merely turned and pressed the gun into Klaus' forehead, effectively stopping him.

"Do you wish to lose two children tonight, Dr. Erskine?" Schmidt asked casually.

Klaus didn't move. He stood there, chest heaving, his entire body coiled tight in readiness to fight for his family.

"Let him go!" Abraham felt his hands clench in defeat. "I will do whatever you ask. Just let them go."

"I will free your wife and son when I have what I want. Not a moment sooner," Schmidt countered.

The three officers dragged Klaus away. He fought back the entire time, until one knocked him out with the butt of his rifle.

Greta whimpered, rushing to his side to put her arms around their son. Abraham went to the other side and together they lifted him up, carrying him out the door. His mind was spinning rapidly. His knees threatened to buckle under the weight of Klaus and the weight of his own failure. And Abraham had failed his family so many times in the past. He failed to recognize Marlene's symptoms in time. Failed to be a good husband and father. Failed to keep his research concealed. Failed to perfect the formula. And now, he'd failed to protect them from the most evil man he'd ever come across.

Abraham turned to give one last look at the sitting room window — still illuminated by the candles — and said a silent prayer for his oldest child, but he wondered what the use was. God had forsaken him long ago.

"Destroy the house," Schmidt ordered his men. "By fire. I want nothing left but ashes by morning."

"Kitty's body." Greta turned her tearfilled eyes to him.

"I'm sorry." Abraham put his head down. "I am so sorry, my love."

They watched through windows of the car as their home was engulfed in towering flames. Their neighbors stood by with fire hoses and buckets of water, ready to intervene should the blaze spread, but they were held back by the Schutzstaffel officers who stood guard.

"Your records and research needed to be destroyed," Greta whispered, running her fingers through Klaus' hair. "It wouldn't do for some innocent child to discover the place and expose themselves to those chemicals."

Abraham flinched at the accusation in her tone, but her warm hand found his, pulling it away from his face.

"You did all you could, Abe," Greta said gently. "Do not blame yourself."

"I waited too long." He shook his head. "I spoke to the wrong people. I not only killed Kitty, but I have put you and Klaus in extreme danger."

"You didn't kill Kitty." Greta ran her fingers down his face. "It was her time. She said as much this morning. The pain was too much, she couldn't eat, sleep, or even lift her head. The disease killed her. Not you, my love. And as for danger; yes, we would not be here if not for you, but without you we wouldn't have had nineteen wonderful years with Kitty and seventeen with Klaus. I would have never known true love and happiness."

"My sweet Greta." Abraham reached up to cover her hand with his. "These men are ruthless. I cannot promise your safety or Klaus'."

"I know." Greta smiled through her tears. "You must do whatever it takes to come back to us. As long as it doesn't compromise your honor."

"Honor will get me killed." He pulled her closer to his side.

"It will keep you alive. You have a compassionate heart, my love. Don't surrender that for anything or anyone," Greta ordered him. "You cannot let them use your inventions against the world. You'd never be able to live with yourself."

"You know me too well." Abraham kissed the top of her head.

* * *

An hour later, Klaus woke with a start, sitting up and grabbing his head in pain.

"Papa!"

"Easy, son." Abraham moved next to him.

"Where are we?" Klaus asked, looking around the dark train car.

"Headed due south if the stars can be trusted," Greta said. "Move back against the wall before you topple over."

"When are we going to escape?" Klaus asked quickly.

"There are steel bars on the door," Abraham answered, pulling his jacket off and placing it around Klaus' shoulders. "We won't know more about security measures until morning."

"Good. Good," Klaus whispered. "Eva promised to alert Grandfather. He'll find us."

Abraham thought of his father-in-law, the scarred general of the World War. There was no question that Jacob would stop at nothing to save his only child and grandson. That's the part that scared him the most. Schmidt wasn't the type of man to be reasoned with. He would kill first and spare no thought or guilt for his actions.

Two days later they were pulled out of the train car. Klaus moved sluggishly, his stomach rumbling in hunger. Greta fared no better. Not once did the train stop to supply them with food or water. They were filthy and cold. Forced to sit in the wooden compartment with no blankets, no heat, not even a pot to relieve themselves.

"Where are you taking us?" Klaus asked the officer who opened the door.

The young man remained silent, gun in hand, gesturing impatiently for them to alight. Klaus climbed down first, but was forbidden from helping Greta. She stumbled onto the station floor and was hauled to her feet by one of the ten officers awaiting them. Abraham joined his family.

He scanned the area as the armed guard escorted them across the train station. The place was bustling with weary travelers, all eying the uniformed officers with suspicion and fear. He could see no way out. There were armed guards everywhere. They were well and truly trapped.

They were nearly at the next platform when shots rang out. Abraham wrapped his arms around his wife and son, dragging them to the ground and shielding them the best he could.

"I will be taking custody of your prisoners," a familiar voice called out.

Abraham looked over his shoulder to see his father in law, Jacob Reinstein, holding a gun to a German officer's head. "You're not as secretive, nor as untouchable, as you'd like to believe, Schmidt. Unhand my family or your man dies."

A tall figure moved in front of Abraham, blocking him from the scene. Greta grasped his arm so tightly he was losing circulation, while Klaus was fighting to break free of his hold.

"Herr Schmidt?" Another officer asked in a shaky tone.

"Kill them both," Schmidt returned, aloof.

The officers looked at each other in confusion, but Schmidt's personal guard understood the command. He pointed his pistol and executed the young German officer.

"No!" Klaus struggled even more, but Abraham only held him tighter.

"I am sorry," he said, feeling his wife's tears on his arm.

Three more shots rang out. Abraham saw Jacob crash to his knees, then fall sideways. His eyes sought out Greta's before they unfocused forever.

Terrified screams filled the train station, and in the commotion all the remaining guns were pointed at him and what remained of his family.

Schmidt pushed through the officers and looked down, unfazed. "Say your goodbyes, Doctor. This is where you part ways."

Four men came forward, grabbing Klaus and Greta by the arms.

"Let go of me!" Klaus screamed.

"This wasn't what I agreed to!" Abraham begged Schmidt. "You promised—"

"Nothing." Schmidt's lips quirked into a menacing smile. "I informed you that your wife and son would live as long as you cooperated. Nothing more."

"I _am_ cooperating!" Abraham shot back.

"And I imagine you will continue to do so," Schmidt returned. "They will be taken to a secure location and cared for until I have what I want. No sooner. Take them away."

Abraham felt Greta's hand slipping from his. "I love you."

"I will see you soon, my love." She let go, her shoulders slumping as they moved her toward another train.

"They are both trained assistants. I could use them in my work." Abraham desperately tried to negotiate, even though Klaus and Greta were already onboard, the compartment locked behind them with heavy chains.

"Our travels to Switzerland haven't been for pleasure, Professor." Schmidt turned to the west side of the building. "Dr. Zola should be joining us soon. You will have all the help you need."

"Please," Abraham pleaded. "They're all I have left in this world."

"Then it's in your best interest — and theirs — to do exactly what's been asked of you." Schmidt turned his back and walked away.

The soldiers shoved Abraham in that same direction, toward a different train. He tried to look over his shoulder. Tried to catch one last glimpse of his wife and son, but all he could see was the crowd surrounding Jacob Reinstein's body.

Shock had set in. He felt numb to it all. The loss of his daughter and father-in-law was too much. He wanted to fall to his knees and not get back up, because he could never give Schmidt what he wanted. And that meant he may never see Greta and Klaus again.

Marlene would never abide his swift surrender. He could almost feel her shame, watching him give up so quickly, when he'd spent years teaching her the power of perseverance. So he kept moving, because he had to believe there was another way. A way to make things right. For his family. For the world. He would find a way.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for the MCU although I've been a fan for over 20 years. 
> 
> I hope someone out there enjoys it. :)


End file.
